


Untold Story

by kittyb



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 17:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15539694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyb/pseuds/kittyb
Summary: The story of Loki and Brynja. WIP.





	Untold Story

Thread One

"First Impressions"

 

Brynja had never been a particularly outgoing person. More often than not she preferred to remain hidden in the background rather than bringing attention to herself. And yet, when the head of the servants had announced that Prince Loki had been captured and would be returning home, she was the only person to show him some sympathy. Most everyone else had simply gossiped about the young man, saying ghastly things about him and what he had done. No one seemed to remember that not-so-long ago he had simply been a boy, the younger brother who wanted to impress his father.

  
The lack of sympathy from the rest of the servants, and most Asgardians in general, had only spurred her on further. She wasn’t entirely sure of the reasons behind her actions, for she had no prior ties to the prince and nothing he had done was particularly intriguing. Nevertheless she wanted to be the one to show this man some kindness, if only to reassure him that the entire world was not against him. 

  
And so, on the night after he had returned home, Brynja found herself walking the unfamiliar path to the prince’s quarters. In her hands was a rather large tray, and on top of that was a small meal and jug of ale. The cook had insisted that Odin had personally given him instructions for this meal, and that on that night Loki would not be eating well. After all, he was supposed to be punished, not treated as a hero.

  
At the end of a long hallway stood the door to Loki’s chambers. On either side were two guards, both armed and rather grizzly. Brynja gave them her name and one man unlocked the door before allowing her to go inside. Once she had stepped into the sitting room the door was slammed behind her, making the young woman jump a little bit. She glanced about the room hesitantly, now feeling uncertain about her decision to take care of the prisoner.

  
“Prince Loki?” She called out. “I’m here to bring you your dinner.”

-

The rooms were dark, lit only by the dying fire in the sitting room fireplace. All drapes had been drawn tightly across the windows, which from this height in the palace no doubt had a view of Asgard that was no less than truly stunning. Many of Loki’s things; those deemed dangerous, or sorcerous had been removed, which left the bookshelves and curio cabinets nearly empty, giving the place a desolate, un-lived in feel.

  
It took a long moment before her words were acknowledge, and then it was by the prince’s sudden presence directly behind her. “So they see fit to feed their new pet, do they?” he asked snidely, quite obviously trying to startle her. He lifted the lid on the serving tray and sneered derisively.

  
“I fear I no longer hunger,” he drawled, waving her away to set it down somewhere - it wasn’t as if the room lacked for empty spaces these days.

  
Loki looked a good bit worse for wear; not the perfectly presented scion of the royal house that all were used to seeing. He wore simple pants and a tunic, his hair unbrushed, and he walked the chambers barefoot in silence. Besides which, he still looked bruised and battered, and walked with a slight limp, from whatever had happened on Midgard. Obviously he saw no need to stand on protocol nor dress to impress - in truth he hadnt expected anyone to come to him for a very long time. 

  
“What miserable lot did you lose to bear this duty?” he asked, looking down his nose at her, “Or for that matter, who wishes you dead?”

-  
The state of the rooms were not exactly how Brynja had imagined them within her mind, they looked far more dark and solemn. Everything seemed bare, so she assumed that his belongings had been removed if they were deemed dangerous or perhaps too pleasurable. Just as she started to move further into the room she heard the eerie sound of the prince’s voice directly behind her.

  
Brynja couldn’t help but gasp. She twisted her head around and caught sight of Loki’s shadowed form, which looked even darker than usual. At a loss for words, she decided to heed his instructions for the time being and sat the tray down on a nearby side table. If he hadn’t startled her so she would have insisted he had something to eat, but so far his tone had been so menacing that she did not wish to cross him.

  
“I-I volunteered.” She answered, using all of her courage to keep her eyes firmly locked with his. “Everyone else seemed… reluctant. But since I bear you no ill will, I decided it would be best for me to take on the job.” Brynja tried her best to sound confident, though in reality she was petrified. Who wouldn’t be when they were in a dark room with a recently imprisoned god of mischief? “I hope you will find me suitable for the job.”

-  
Loki looked her up and down, seemingly unimpressed and slightly annoyed; but it wasn’t a perfect stage face, there were enough cracks in his mask to realise that perhaps his menace was more an act than truly felt. None spoke to him since his return, not even the All-Father who had sentenced Loki in the prince’s absence. Although the Asgardians wouldn’t know it, none had spoken to him outside of the cruel barbs traded in pain and warfare since the time he had fallen from the Bifrost.

  
“At this point, dear girl, anyone without a knife for my back or shackles for my wrists is more than suitable for what purpose I need them. Yet, you are still a fool to volunteer for such a position,” he replied, shaking his head slightly, “First lesson of Asgardian politics; bear ill will, you’ll be taken advantage of and trampled in the dust for the advancement of others if you go through life being too kind… Or so that is their take when consorting with my humble self.”

-  
Despite the harshness in Loki’s gaze and the tightening of his jaw, after watching him for a few minutes Brynja was convinced that he was truly in pain. Lonely, distraught, betrayed, hopeless… Her mind filled with the countless possible emotions that he hid behind a steel mask and she knew that she had made the right decision in volunteering. Anyone else would have thrown his tray down, spat a few choice insults at him, and stormed out. But at that point the last thing she wanted to do was to leave this poor man alone, no matter how much malice was in his tone.

  
“I have no use for politics, my lord. I’m a servant, and I’ll remain as such for the rest of my life. I don’t see the point in getting mixed up in those mind games when in the end I’ll always be at the same place.” Brynja answered sharply. In the back of her mind she knew that politics was always present, even in the servants quarters, and that it most certainly affected everyone. Still, for her purposes that night it was best to ignore all of that.

  
After a moment she let out a quiet sigh and shook her head. “I do not believe you will take advantage of me, nor trample me into the dust. I’m the best chance you have to get food that hasn’t been tampered with.” She offered him a small smile, hoping to raise his mood marginally. “Speaking of which, you really should eat, sir. You must be hungry after all you’ve been through.”

-  
Loki smiled quickly, a slight quirk of the lips that was gone in an instant. She was definitely an odd one. “I should, no doubt, but I do not wish to,” he replied, but he did go to the tray and pour himself a drink instead. Hunger could be ignored in favor of other pursuits, but a thirst needed quenching or it would drive him mad… well, madder. 

“Tell me, girl…” He said, pausing with a considering look on his face, “First, your name so I needn’t call you girl. Secondly, what use you think I have for food, untampered food, even? I am a dead man walking; a dead man who cannot die, if you will pardon the riddle. Thirdly, what do you know of what I have been through? You know nothing, none here do, there are places in the darkness where even the All-father’s sight reaches not, and of which Heimdall will not speak - and those named have no ears to listen.”

  
He turned away from her and went to sit in one of the armchairs by the fire, staring at the coals and seemingly ignoring her presence for a moment. “Feed the fire, I’ve left it to cool,” he ordered, beckoning her over. That in itself was odd, that he wouldn’t do so himself. Not physically, of course, he wouldn’t dirty his hands; but everyone knew of his gifts, and the green balefire he wielded equally well on the battlefield and for illumination. Perhaps his belongings and status weren’t the only things taken from him upon his return.

-  
Though Brynja had not expected the prince to listen, she felt somewhat disappointed when he told her that he did not wish to eat. A moment later he had poured himself a drink, though, and that did please the young servant. At least he was having something. For a split second she considered the fact that there was an entire jug there for him to take, and that before long she may very well have a drunken god on her hand. But that worry was quickly wiped away by the notion that there were guards right outside the door.

  
The brunette glanced up once again when Loki addressed her. She listeneted to him intently, obviously interested in what he had to say. She considered his questions for a while, trying to decide how to best answer the more delicate issues. She truly did not want to upset the man, especially when she had only known him for such a short while. That certainly wouldn’t have a good affect on their relationship of servant and master for however long he required her. 

  
Just as she opened her mouth to answer, the god barked an order, and Brynja begrudgingly walked towards the fire. “Yes, sir,” she responded, though it was more out of habit than anything. She bent down before the dying coals and began arranging a few new pieces of firewood on top of them. She then began poking the embers with an iron bar, eventually causing the flames to appear once more begin engulfing the freshly-cut logs. With a quiet sigh Brynja got up off her knees and turned around to face Loki.

  
“My name is Brynja. Secondly, you could obviously use the food. You may be immortal but nourishment will still help you heal. And yes, I can tell that you still have some injuries that need to heal.” The servant answered, her brow raised. “And thirdly, you are right, I know nothing of what you have been through. But I’ve heard stories, and by the look in your eyes things have not been easy for you. I never claimed to know what happened, I simply know that something has happened.”

-  
Loki didn’t answer for a moment, only sipped his wine and stared off into the dancing flames, eventually holding out his cup to her in a mute request for it to be refilled. His status may have been removed, but he was entirely too used to casually ordering about anyone who wasn’t his immediate family… except they weren’t his family anymore, and on that thought he definitely needed another glass of wine. “I am not exactly trying to hide those injuries, nor can I. They will heal in time, whether I eat or not. Have you heard ever the story, of when I lived through a beheading?” he asked, but continued talking without pausing for an answer to his obviously rhetorical question, “Come, sit, and tell me what it is you think you do know. These stories of what I have done, in brief. I simply wish to know what the gossip is concerning my motives. No doubt they are a fool’s tale told by a court of fools…. and they are fools, Brynja, all of them. Petty, dangerous, murderous fools who name me Liesmith when they care not for the truths I tell.”

He looked up at her and smiled wanly, some strange desire for approval mixing in with the pain and resentment in his gaze. “My greatest lies have always been the truth, after all,” he murmured, “So now when I have truth to tell, great truths both important and dangerous, I lie. Not because I want to, but I seem to need to all the time.”

-  
Without a word, the young servant filled up Loki’s cup when he held it out. For a moment she wished that that was all she would have to do - the menial tasks that were expected of her everyday. She could easily arrange dishes, fill glasses, tend to fires, and make beds, but never before had she been in a position to have an intimate conversation with royalty. Being alone with the prince for so long had already made her a little anxious, but after the prince started to speak again she pushed those thoughts aside. She couldn’t leave him by himself at a time like this.

  
Brynja visibly cringed at the thought of seeing the man before her survive a beheading. No, she had never heard that story before, and she hoped to never hear the details. Working as a servant had given her a strong stomach in some cases, but she was no match for dismemberment. Thankfully the subject was immediately changed and she was given a break from the graphic images that played in her mind.

  
As the prince continued on, Brynja felt her heart weighing heavy in her chest. The way he looked at her, the way that his smile appeared on his face, the words he spoke… It all gave her a small glimpse into the pain Loki felt, and that was more than enough to make her feel even more sympathy for him. She smiled at him dimly, trying her best to keep up a bright atmosphere and failing miserably. She took a seat beside him and kept her eyes locked with his.

  
“Surely you can tell someone those truths? I’m sure there are those who would believe you no matter what has happened, they must be able to recognize words that important as true?” Brynja offered, her voice rather soft. She considered asking him about those truths, but she knew that doing so was a waste of time. She was but a petty servant, surely he wouldn’t trust her with knowledge that he had purposefully kept to himself. And how could she blame him? He had known her for less than half an hour! The brunette let out a quiet sigh. “As for the gossip… Are you sure you wish to hear their stories? I never said I believed everything they have talked about, for as you yourself said they are but fools. Do you really want to know what simple fools think of you?”

-  
“Surely I can tell someone… Are you daft, girl?” he asked snidely, giving her a look that clearly said he thought so, at least in the moment. “The All-father has no use for my words, nor my presence, no matter what truths and warnings I give to him. My advice and counsel is ever-desired only when I am in the good graces of the gods and speak only on what matters they wish.”

  
Loki snorted derisively and grumbled something about Aesir politics before downing a good half of his goblet of wine. If they saw fit to give him wine, then by the gods he would make good use of it and forget his petty miseries for a moment or two. There was naught else to do, besides looking out at Asgard through bars and ‘think upon his sins’ as the counsel had requested.

  
“As for those fools, yes I do. Know thine enemy, Brynja, that is the best advice that any can give,” he murmured, his ire at her gone as quickly as it had risen up, “If Asgard had, perhaps, known her enemy, I would not be here speaking with you. I mean that not only in knowing my person, but in knowing their enemies of old and stopping much before it started… but that is a long story, for perhaps another time.” To his knowledge, the All-Father had not made it plain to Asgard where Loki’s true heritage lay. Best to be the monster for his deeds alone and not reveal that he was a beast in blood as well.

-  
All of Brynja’s confidence was crushed the moment Loki subtly insulted her intelligence. She glanced down at the floor, suddenly overwhelmed by sensation of a pink flush engulfing her face. There was nothing for her to do but stare at the ground until the prince had said his piece. She had absolutely no idea what to say to him, for she had only been trying to be kind. Whenever he was finished she licked her lips and responded only with, “I see.”

  
The next time Loki spoke to her the snide tone to his voice had vanished and it was if it had never been there at all. Brynja hesitantly looked up at him, still unsure of how she should proceed with telling him about the gossip. She didn’t want to upset him again, lest his anger come out much more ferociously the second time. She bit down on her lip for a moment, considering all that she had heard and all Loki had told her. It was vital that she proceeded cautiously if there was to be any hope of that evening ending peacefully.

  
“That I cannot argue, sir. It is always advantageous to know your enemy,” she started, her voice still a bit shaky despite her efforts to push past it. “I never paid much attention to their conversations, I don’t care for gossip and they all whisper to each other constantly, so it’s hard to pick out what is important. But I do know they believe you to have fallen through space and landed in Midgard. They said that to get revenge on your brother you planned to destroy the entire planet and the human race. So you destroyed many major citizens and slaughtered thousands of innocent humans before Thor discovered your location and… reprimanded you.” Brynja swallowed hard and began to twirl her thumbs anxiously while she awaited Loki’s reaction.

-  
Loki breathed in as if about to speak once Brynja was finished, but then paused, considering. “Correct on some counts, incredibly wrong on others, and twisted in all,” he replied thoughtfully, “I fell, yes… but ‘space’ is a great misnomer, it implies that it is empty, desolate, and it is in a way; all of your senses are deprived. However, there are also  things  there, of which I would not speak, but they are enough to turn even the most stoic mind to madness.”

  
He looked over at her and grinned, and it was hardly a pleasant expression. “Of course, when you’re already mad, do you think it makes a difference?” he asked, laughing sardonically, “It is neither ‘space’, nor did I land on Midgard, I came first elsewhere of which I would also not speak unless I thought those listening cared to hear. I came to Midgard with an army, yes, and they wreaked great havoc on the land. But tell me, Brynja, and prove yourself not to be daft. If one wished to subjugate and rule, why then would one first destroy all? Why would a man, even a madman, wish to be king over desolation and ashes? These are the questions that those in authority should ponder.”

-  
Brynja was anxious about telling the god what terrible things her comrades had said about him. But, once again, he surprised her. Loki showed no immediate aggression or spite. Quite the opposite, really. He appeared to be calm and collected as he began to reply. The young woman was immediately drawn in by his even temper. It was strange, when he showed no malice it was as if he were a magnet. He entranced her, fascinated her, and it seemed impossible to tear her attention away from him. What’s more, her natural curiosity began to run wild as he spoke of the universe outside of Asgard.

  
She tilted her head slightly, considering his notion of madness. As far as she could tell he was not a loon. Angry, jaded, short-tempered — yes, but still sane enough. However she had not spoken to him personally for a very long time at all, so she decided to keep her mouth shut on that topic. Instead, she focused on the short-lived tale he told about his true trip to Midgard and what had actually gone on. When he finished she was looking up at him with wide, curious eyes, like those of a child who had just been told a heroic bed time story. She blinked and considered his question for a few moments before responding.

  
“It would be a very foolish decision, but I suppose if a ruler wished to revolutionize his kingdom he might destroy everything. That way he could build everything as he saw fit.” Brynja answered. She tucked a dark curl behind her ear and glanced from Loki to the floor and back again. “Where did you land? And how did you manage to get an army under your command so quickly? You may think I’m uninterested, but truly I care to know. I’ve never heard such a harrowing tale, and I’ve certainly never been so close to someone who has lived through it.”

-  
Loki noted how enthralled she was by his words, his very presence. He was known for his ability to talk his way into, and out of, anything, and manipulate the hearts and minds of his fellows. With magical power removed, and even disgraced as he was, he still had the power of a silver tongue.

  
“Destroy the infrastructure perhaps, but not the very people you plan to rule. You must have something left to rule after all besides a desolate rock,” he said with a smile that seemed almost fond. Not only was the girl the only one to care to talk to him willingly, but she actually listened and most importantly; she thought before she answered. Those were gifts entirely more rare than they should be.

  
Loki stared deeply into the fire for a long time, reaching over to the jug and pouring himself enough goblet of wine with hardly even looking. Talking of what she wished to know required alcohol at the best of times. “What I have seen, where I have been, would warp your mind if you knew it truly,” he said, glancing to her for a second before his gaze turned back to the dancing flames.

  
“I did not land, I was plucked from the ethers by those who thought they may have use to me. Their leader is… The Other, a god among the gods, one who must never be named for to speak of the devil is to summon him. He with the power to unmake galaxies, he who is in love with Death herself,” he said quietly, murmuring softly as if someone might overhear, “I did not raise an army, I was given them and they were mine only in name. It was blessed chance that their aims lay aligned with mine, in part. I was in a land beyond redemption there was no way back. I was universes away from the Nine Realms, I…. I would give them Midgard, because if I promised as much the horrors would stop and if I led their army, I could realise my plans.”

  
He shook his head and looked over to Brynja. “But of course, the best laid plans of mice and men… The Other commanded them, they sought desolation to aid him in courting Death. I sought chaos and then control, not destruction,” he continued, “It was a mess of misplaced power, I was mad and half under His control, half trying to fight it, while trying to walk the path of my own schemes…. Now I failed, did I not?”

  
Loki paused, and smiled. “Or so they think. I was told that should I fail The Other in any way, there is nowhere I may hide and when he finds me, I will long for something so sweet as pain and it will never end,” he murmured, “My choices are run, or prepare.”

-  
There was only one word needed to describe Brynja after Loki smiled at her - mesmerized. For someone who seemed to be filled with pain and hate, he had a beautiful smile. The servant could not help but smile back at him, for she was thrilled to see him look at her that way. His words only enthralled her further. Not only did he have a fascinating story to tell, but he was a marvelous story teller.  
She fixated her gaze on his eyes and listened to him intently as he relayed the story. When he spoke of the leader, The Other, she let out a quiet gasp. Was there really such a creature beyond the Nine Realms? Someone who could be summoned by name and destroy entire galaxies? It all sounded like something out of an epic tale, but the way Loki relayed his story fully convinced her that he was telling the truth. Of course, she was a little naive to not even question the master of lies, but that notion did not even cross her mind as she listened to him.  
Her expression changed to that of disappointment whenever the prince admitted to the fact he had failed in his goals. She had no idea why she felt so, since it was obvious by the fact they were speaking that he had failed. And even though Loki had no right to control the humans in Midgard, the way he recalled the events made her picture him as the hero of it all, though that was certainly not the case. Still, after considering all that he said, she was at a loss for what to think of this man and his crimes. Now that she had heard his side it seemed very difficult to see where justice lay.  
Brynja let out another feminine gasp as he finished his piece. “Surely he will not find you here!” She suddenly declared. He had brought out the rarely-seen passionate side of the woman with his words alone, which was quite a feat. “Even someone as powerful as this ‘Other’ that you speak of is no match for the Allfather! And he wouldn’t let that devil get to you, I’m sure of it.” Brynja looked positively overwhelmed at that moment as she searched Loki’s expression for further answers. “You are safe here, aren’t you? No one could get to you within the palace.”  
-  
Loki laughed, but not cruelly as he had before, and his smile was back as he looked at her. There was fondness in his expression, this girl truly amused him, pleased him, and that was odd enough of late for him to wish to latch on to her a little.  
“Dear girl, you have too much faith in both the All-Father and myself… Asgard as well, for that matter,” he replied, “I will be found, in time, and bloodshed will come of it. Death follows after me, and the Other is death incarnate as much as I am made of chaos. Your passion for my continued existence is pleasant, but passion alone cannot save us can it?”  
Loki rose and left the room for a moment, returning with another goblet which he filled from the wine jug and handed to her with a courtly little bow. Most of the nobles of Asgard would balk to see such a thing. Not only a lord pouring for a servant and inviting them to sit and talk as equals, but moreso that  Lokiwould do such a thing. He was not particularly well-known for having patience or care for those who served him.  
“What will save us, is strength, of which Asgard has plenty. Also, knowledge,” he said, tapping a finger on his temple, “Which is right here, and must simply be shared.”  
-  
The sound of Loki’s laugh was surprisingly pleasant, though at that point in time Brynja was in no mood for laughter. She had been captured completely by his story, captivated by the true tale of how he had fallen from Asgard and returned in chains. That he had ended it all with the suggestion that some all powerful, evil creature would eventually find him and destroyed him was enough to leave her distraught.  
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out he had rose and walked out of the room. For a moment she was a little dumbfounded, which given her chaotic state of emotions was quite stressful. However, once he returned with a second goblet in hand, all of her thoughts went silent.  
Never had anyone above her on the social ladder offered her a drink in the manner that the prince did. Even the head servants refused to mingle with those in her class unless it was to give orders. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she took the cup from him and held in carefully in both hands. “T-Thank you, sir,” she responded, still taken aback by his actions. She was confused, but more than that she was proud. Surely this would go down in servant history if she dared to share it with anyone, though she had already decided to keep their conversation a secret. She, of all people, had a drink poured from her by an actual prince!  
Brynja took a moment to regain her composure, though she still appeared to be a bundle of nerves. She took a sip of the wine and savored the taste. The cook may have thought it was lousy, but she hadn’t tasted something so sweet in ages. But soon her attention was turned back to Loki, and as he began to speak she listened intently once more. “So you do think we can be saved? That there is a chance the Other could be defeated, and that your life may be spared?” Her eyes pleaded with the hopes that he would reassure her that he and all of Asgard would be safe. And then, suddenly, a revelation hit her.  
“This is the great and dangerous truth, isn’t it? What the Allfather needs to know but will not listen to?”  
-  
At her last words, Loki smiled at her, obviously pleased. “Very astute, dear girl,” he murmured approvingly, “So it is.” He said nothing for a time, only sipped his wine and stared at the fire, before filling his goblet once more. By this point he was starting to feel pleasantly intoxicated, the kind of drunkenness that made his laugh come easily and compliments a possibility, before it moved on to sullenness should he imbibe too much further.  
“There is no need to stand on ceremony nor call to impress, by the way,” he said, when he felt like speaking again. It was easy for Loki to lose himself in thought these days, in listless darkness of the mind that had been his only solace in recent days, “I am no one’s lord, ‘sir’ to no man. I am a prince in memory, the once and future king. At this very moment, my status is that of a prisoner in truth albeit few see it as such. However in that manner, our conversation here is much less improper for the both of us. There is freedom to be found in servitude and social weakness, it seems.”  
-  
Despite all of the anxiety and restlessness that his words had stirred within her, Brynja beamed when Loki smiled at her once more. His compliment and simple term of endearment had her smiling from ear to ear. She could not tell whether they were sincere or simply the drink getting to him, but she decided to ignore the latter possibility all together and enjoy the moment. After all, how often was it that the god of mischief handed out compliments to servant girls?  
Hearing that Loki believed his status to be that of a prisoner made the brunette feel uncomfortable. She fidgeted in her seat and glanced down at the floor. As far as she was concerned, he was still a prince. Most everyone agreed that even if he was bound and behind bars he was still royalty, and still above the majority of Asgardians. Brynja looked up hesitantly at him a weak smile. “I still see you as my prince and lord. I am here to serve you, after all,” she started, her voice gaining some strength as her mind focused on something besides their impending doom. “However, if it would make you feel more comfortable for me to ignore that, I will try my best to do so.”  
-  
“It would, and I would like very much to be comfortable for once. And before your mind leaps to it, this is no trick,” he said wryly, “Simply loneliness and desolation speaking out to you, and… and I find I lack friends, of late.”  
That was an admission that would not have escaped had he been entirely sober. Even so, he found some satisfaction in the fact that he could order this stupidly loyal girl to sit and speak and game and whatever else he wished of her for his diversion. Of course, that was as it always had been. Loki’s compatriots had always been Thor’s friends and merely tolerant of his presence. ALthough he could weasel his way into any party or bed that he wished, no one truly liked him, he was just sort of accepted and dealt with. One small, sober place in his mind told him it was both improper and ridiculous to treat a servant as a friend simply because she couldn’t leave until dismissed. That thought was quickly quashed.  
“See me as a prince if you prefer, but treat me not as such behind closed doors. I am not Odinson, nor am I… the son of any other,” he said, hesitating and avoiding mentioning his true heritage,”Unfortunate as that may be.”  
-  
The smile that had started to form on Brynja’s lips was quickly dashed after Loki admitted that he lacked friends. Her heart felt heavy in her chest as those words replayed in her mind. At that moment it seemed she was getting a glimpse into the more vulnerable side of the god, and though it was but a small sliver of what she had seen of him it had a devastating affect on her. Had she truly felt she was his equal she would have given the man a hug, embracing him for as long as he would allow her. Of course, no matter what he said she knew that they were no where close to equals, and such an act might very well get her banished.  
“If that is your wish,” she answered simply. Brynja had heard rumors that Loki was not Odin’s true son, but she had never believed them to be true. Hearing him claim that he was not an Odinson furthered her confusion, but she brushed it off as a pained main renouncing the father that had imprisoned him. “You know, I don’t have many friends either. Most of those willing to talk to me are too dull to hold my attention. Never have I had to face any of the torturous perils you have been through, but on some level I do empathize with you. And I hope that maybe, even though I have no status and am not a great power, you might find talking to me pleasant.”  
-  
“I do,” Loki replied, giving her a searching look, ‘Do you think I would yet be speaking with you, much less telling my story if your presence wasn’t pleasing in a myriad of ways?”  
He leaned over and refilled her glass for her. There were several goblet-fulls left in the jug, but he knew if he drank much more he would be likely to do or say things he would later regret. Even now as the ‘monster’ of Asgard there were bounds he wouldn’t overstep, even whilst drunk, for fear of solidifying people’s thoughts about him.  
“Many here in Asgard are dullards unworthy or incapable of higher conversation. Tis a pity that our scholars and libraries are so undervalued, or it would not be so rare a thing, a conversation such as this,” he replied. They may not be intellectual equals -few were, in Loki’s view- but they were certainly close. No matter what insults he tossed casually at her were simply his nature, not at all truly meant; she was smarter than that.  
-  
Brynja flashed the god a sheepish grin as she considered the foolishness of her prior words. Obviously he didn’t find her too terribly annoying, or he would have surely dismissed her ages ago. Still, she did not want to assume anything on his behalf, lest it end up being gravely untrue. “Yes, I suppose it would be quite odd for you to tell an unpleasant person such personal information.” When he filled her glass she thanked him quietly and took another long sip. The wine was sweet, and not at all watered down like what the servants were given.  
She was feeling pleasantly warm and slightly less overwhelmed, but she was no where near drunk. The slight buzzed feeling made her anxieties fade away even more, making the conversation between her and Loki all that much more enjoyable.

“It is a true shame,” she agreed. While she was certainly not a scholar, for a servant Brynja was very well read, though compared to Loki that was not saying much. Still, the fact that he seemed to think their conversation was a rare, higher conversation boosted her confidence. “Even more so that people like your brother are regarded as perfect leaders, though their only strengths lie in practicalities. But I suppose if what you warned me of does come true we will need brute strength to defend the realm.”  
-  
Loki laughed at her words, and it was an unguarded, joyful noise unlike the others thus far - the wine had gone to his head indeed. “Truer words never were spoken!” he said brightly, “Thor could not negotiate his way out of a box, although he’d sincerely try. Daft blighter still insists upon calling me brother, of all things, fool that he is.”

Loki rolled his eyes and slouched down in his chair in a most unprincely manner. His posture was usually perfect, if somewhat cowed. “Even so, dangerous words for a servant, dear girl. You are safe to speak your mind before me, as none care for my opinions but you, so who then would I tell? No doubt you have such insights on all the nobles,” he said, then gave her an appraising glance as if he’d just had some sort of epiphany, “I propose a game of sorts, a game of words…. not the sort of thing one proposes to a lady, but I’m not one for propriety. It is as so; we take turns as one asks a question, the other either must answer in truth, or down their whole glass in payment for their silence. All said therein is then excused and forgiven by sake of the wine, you see? So in that vein my first question, should you accept, what is your frank observance of myself?”  
-  
Loki laughed at her words, and it was an unguarded, joyful noise unlike the others thus far - the wine had gone to his head indeed. “Truer words never were spoken!” he said brightly, “Thor could not negotiate his way out of a box, although he’d sincerely try. Daft blighter still insists upon calling me brother, of all things, fool that he is.”  
Loki rolled his eyes and slouched down in his chair in a most unprincely manner. His posture was usually perfect, if somewhat cowed. “Even so, dangerous words for a servant, dear girl. You are safe to speak your mind before me, as none care for my opinions but you, so who then would I tell? No doubt you have such insights on all the nobles,” he said, then gave her an appraising glance as if he’d just had some sort of epiphany, “I propose a game of sorts, a game of words…. not the sort of thing one proposes to a lady, but I’m not one for propriety. It is as so; we take turns as one asks a question, the other either must answer in truth, or down their whole glass in payment for their silence. All said therein is then excused and forgiven by sake of the wine, you see? So in that vein my first question, should you accept, what is your frank observance of myself?”  
-  
Brynja’s entire face lit up when she heard Loki laugh once more, though this time he sounded more sincere and joyous than ever before. She felt quite pleased with herself, knowing she had caused it. A moment later she was giggling to herself at the image of prince Thor standing inside a wooden box and banging helplessly on the sides. The god of thunder had never done anything to her personally that made her dislike him, but the fact that he had brought Loki back to Asgard in chains made her wary of him.  
She nodded quickly to reassure the god that she knew her words were dangerous. She would never dare say such a thing to anyone who may pass it on, which included the vast majority of her comrades, but she trusted Loki not to betray her. But before she could verbally respond, a new subject was brought up, one that filled her with new enthusiasm.  
The young woman sat up straight and smiled wryly at Loki as he explained the game. It was a new concept to her, of course, but she was more than willing to explore the territory with him, especially if it meant discovering some well hidden secrets. After he posed his first question she tilted her head to one side and considered him for a moment. “Well, I must say that the first thing I noticed about you was that you are very intimidating when you chose to be. You have the capacity to frighten most anyone, even as a prisoner.” She paused for a moment and smirked at him before continuing. “However, at the same time you have a very charismatic air about you. You are eloquent, intelligent, dangerous, and handsome.” Brynja was careful to slip in her last word quickly and then move on to her own question.  
“My turn. If I were not the only person who wished to listen to your opinions, would you ever have given me a chance to speak with you?”  
-  
Loki smiled and made an approving noise at the answer she gave to his question. It was a fair observation, and quite accurate. Although he could argue the last bit, if he cared to. Few, or none, found him handsome in truth when compared to the lauded warriors of Asgard - he found his way to his lover’s beds on other merits. Pale, dark-haired, and thin were not high on the Aesir standard of beauty.  
“Would you ever have tried?” Loki asked in reply, then shook his head, “That isn’t my question, I apologize. If you had come to me with enough gall to ask leave to speak freely, I would have heard you out - that stands for any who care to speak in my presence. You were simply the first to care enough to raise your voice. Most would have simply left my supper and fled, you called for me. I have stood silent in the shadows long enough to know that those others who do are aching to speak, who am I to silence them.”  
That said, he sighed and bit his lip, apparently deep in inebriated thought. “Why do you serve? I ask because you speak well, a sign of being reasonably literate and decently read, you’re of significant beauty, and you possess a modicum of courage. Combine those things well enough, and you could reach far higher,” he said, curiosity obvious in his tone.  
-  
Brynja nodded in understanding at Loki’s answer. He did make a good point with his rhetorical question, for most likely if he had not seemed so secluded and alone she would not have been so vigilant in trying to keep him company. The fact that she had wanted to reach out to him was odd in and of itself, since it was not in her nature to offer herself in such a way. In the end, though, something about Loki had peaked her interest and it led to the most interesting conversation she could ever recall having.  
His next question caught her off guard, and by the time he had finished speaking her cheeks were bright pink. It was not often she received any sort of compliment, and even rarer was it for them to be from an honest source. For someone of Loki’s status to insinuate that she was decently intelligent made her beam with pride, but to hear him say she was a beauty was another matter entirely. The only people who complimented her appearance were roguish men, normally drunkards, who she was unfortunate enough to have to serve. They never meant it, of course, they simply wanted to get a young woman into their bed. Loki, however, seemed to be genuine, and that was what got her flustered.  
“It is not by choice, if that’s what you mean,” Brynja finally answered. She heaved a heavy sigh and shook her head. “My parents passed away when I was fairly young, and I had no where to go and no inheritance. So I became a servant. But by that point my mother had already taught me how to read, so my interest in knowledge was set in stone before I came here. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t be able to spell my own name.” Despite the soreness of the topic, she gave him a small smirk.  
“While you were in Midgard, did you meet any interesting humans? Any who you thought might be a match for a god, mentally or physically?”  
-  
“I thought it was perhaps something of that nature, but ‘tis rude to make such assumptions. I’m sorry for the loss of your parents, mine are dead as well,” he said with a sigh, “But one should realize that Hel and Niflheimr are not bad places to be, especially as a spirit. Cold, dead, yes, very much so, but for one who is only a living spirit, who has not done great evil in their life, it is a place of peace and healing… They are even allowed to watch over those who live, with Mistress Hel’s permission.”  
Loki didn’t know why he felt like reassuring her, it was truly unnecessary. Perhaps it was more coming to the defense of his erstwhile daughter Hela than to soothe Brynja’s mind. None ever listened to him when he brought her into conversation, and most wanted to forget their relation, if ever they knew more than rumors. Many people had startling misconceptions about the fate of those who did not die the warrior’s way or in childbirth so as to enter Valhalla, and he liked to set them right, if possible.  
Before he answered her question, he refilled his goblet and drank it down, as if he were taking the coward’s way out of the game. But, he did wish to answer, only to have a little more fortitude first. “I did, in a manner of speaking. There is a man there who was frozen in ice for seventy Midgardian years and lived, by this number of years he should be an old man, but he looks still as young as we,” he replied, “and a man who builds marvels; a suit of armor that can fly. They were indeed worthy adversaries. The people of Midgard worship them as heroes, so perhaps you could count them as a sort of god.” He didn’t count the Hulk who, after all, was more beast playing a man - much the same way he saw himself.  
“If you had the chance to walk away from your life here and be something more, would you act upon it?” he asked, which was a question he had oft asked of himself in the past, “Or not even more, something else? Something different? And if so, what?”  
-  
The god’s kind condolences touched Brynja’s heart. Very few people had ever showed her much sympathy over the loss of her parents, though that was not to say all of the Asgardians she had encountered were cruel. But many a young servant in the palace had a similar story to tell, and after a while those they served became desensitized to hearing them. She smiled sweetly at him and nodded, her own way of silently accepting all he had said as true. It conflicted with what she had been told over the years, but she was much more willing to believe the more pleasant possibility that her parents were at peace and watching over her.  
Brynja raised her brow when she saw Loki down his goblet. For a moment she was surprised, thinking he had decided not to answer her question. But shortly this was proven not to be the case, and he recalled the worthy adversaries he had met at Midgard. “A flying suit of armor?” She whispered, more to herself than to him. She had assumed humans to be beasts, wild and dull creatures who were more like dogs than anything else. But it seemed that was not so. If Loki thought some could be counted as gods, then surely they were very different than how she had envisioned them.  
The woman let out a heavy sigh upon hearing his question, and took a quick gulp of her wine to help calm her nerves. That question stirred many memories of times when she had hoped to escape her life of eternal service, dreams that had long ago withered away. Over the years she had learned it was much easier to push hopes and dreams aside when they had no chance of coming true. “If I thought that I could survive somewhere else, and possibly be happy, then yes. I have no ties here, the relationships I’ve formed with other servants have been less than meaningful at best. I used to like to imagine that one day I’d be able to walk away from this life and do something, anything, besides spending my days cleaning up after rowdy gods.” She stared down at her drink, obviously unsure of herself of the secret she was revealing. “But I cannot honestly say I had any particular dream in mind. I’d probably take anything at all.” Brynja shook her head, trying to push those difficult memories aside for her own sanity.  
“Is it your dream to rule?” She asked. “You took Odin’s place during the Odinsleep and went to Midgard to try and become their ruler. Is that what you truly wish to be? A king?”  
-  
“I never wished to be king, I only ever wished to receive more recognition than scorn,” he answered, giving her a very serious look, “You look upon the nobility and see evident priviledge, and so it is; I could lord myself over others all I wished as a prince. However, I am of yet nothing to them, I never was. A man, a prince no less, working seidr, shapeshifting, consorting about as a woman, having no care or flare for the warrior’s arts… I am anathema to what Asgard stands for, and have long been called strange and hated for my very nature. They see true to the heart of what I am, even before I knew why it was that I am different. I never wanted a throne, here or in Midgard nor anywhere else…”  
He paused a moment and sighed heavily, this question having brought up feelings of inadequacy that he would normally stifle by some aberrant act of mischief - an option that was not available to him at this time. “I have lived my entire life in a gilded cage, always coming back no matter how far I wandered, like a trained animal. I suppose that’s what I am,” he continued, “To be king is to enter an even bigger cage. With that position comes responsibility, protocol, lack of freedom. I have had little enough, I would have no more taken from me. Does that answer your question sufficiently, dear girl? I believe I’ve somewhat talked in circles.”  
He laughed softly, self-deprecatingly at his own words. “My cage has become significantly smaller of late, now that Odin has no trouble treating me like the beast I am,” he murmured, “Power is a cage, so is duty. You, my girl, are also locked up in this cage they call a palace. Unlike me, however, freedom is within your grasp. My only freedom is to leap…” He glanced over at the drape-covered windows pointedly. “You, on the other hand, can walk away, and so you should. Take what you have, and leave service; be what you desire to be, not what circumstances have made you.”  
“My question then, is would you stay a caged beast like your erstwhile prince, or spread your wings?” he asked, “I am a monster that can never be freed, my fate drives as much, but you I should think, can fly on the wings of wit and imagination.”  
-  
Brynja considered Loki’s words carefully, unsure what to think of them. She had long known that Loki had a tendency to partake in activities that many would deem perverse for a man, let alone a prince. However, she had always made it a point to not fall victim to the way of fools and refused to accept the petty gossip she overheard as true. Hearing the god himself admit that some aspects of said gossip had been true, like that he was capable of shapeshifting and had gallivanted about as a woman, was a bit of a shock. Still, this new discovery did not change her opinion of the man. It simply meant he was, in fact, far more mischievous than she had ever believed.  
What’s more, as he continued on in his answer, the young woman found herself feeling even more confused. Though that might have been partially due to slight fuzziness that was clouding her mind. Loki was far more complicated than any man, or woman, she had ever encountered. And it was truly difficult to even begin to decipher his words and deeds so that she could properly judge them. He had held much power as a prince, and yet he remained an outcast amongst his peers. The reasons behind his escapade at Midgard were certainly not what she had expected, for her blatantly told her he did not wish to rule. Through all of this confusion came even greater sympathy, for she could not fathom how he had managed to remain as sane as he was when she could not even begin to piece together his life in her mind.  
When suddenly Loki turned his words back onto her, Brynja’s eyes widened with a strange innocence. She had never considered freedom to be within her grasp, it had always been a dream for her. And though what the god said was true, she could certainly leave her service, it seemed to be an unfathomable possibility. “Wit and imagination do not provide one with food or shelter,” she replied wryly. For a moment she simply looked off into the distance, a bit overwhelmed by the sudden rush of information that had been cast onto her.  
“You said earlier that I had courage, and in certain instances that is true. But I’m afraid in the end I am a coward. I do not know any world beyond this place,” she waved her hand casually above her head. “The last time I experienced freedom I was but a child, one who was taken care of and protected. I do not have the bravery to pick myself up and walk away into a new world alone. I do not know how to survive on the streets, and I certainly don’t believe I qualify for any position other than servant.” Brynja sighed and hung her head, casting her gaze into her half-full goblet. “You may think less of me for it, but that is the truth. I am not brave enough to leave this life alone, at least, not now.”  
There was a long pause of silence after that. In truth, Brynja felt ashamed for what she had admitted to him. He had only just complimented her, and now she felt as if her answer had washed away anything he might have seen in her. She was weak, in the end. Eventually, though, the brunette glanced back up at him, still looking rather shameful. “Why do you keep calling yourself a monster?”  
-  
Loki had been about to reply to her exposition, deny her words, even. She had the bravery to approach him, speak to him, drink and lose her inhibitions before him… that was far more courage than most of Asgard, even it’s great warriors could claim. But then, she asked the question. He knew it would probably come, eventually, but it threw him out of his thoughts which he was organizing to speak. His eyes went wide and he froze for a moment, like a startled deer that had just spied the hunter.

His hand that held the goblet trembled slightly as he raised it to his lips to drink, to deny the question, but then he paused and set it down on the endtable beside his armchair. “You know not what you ask, dear girl,” he said quietly, something malicious in his tone, “You know I am not Odin’s son, yet I am born a prince, so one must then suppose I came from another realm, yes? What I am is easier believed when seen than when explained, for no doubt you would think it mischief to tell and brush it off as such. I am a monster, quite truly, and I will show you if you care to see. So my question then is, do you wish to know?”  
-  
Brynja had not been prepared for the response Loki gave her. His momentary startled appearance was enough to throw her off, for during that split second he seemed to be truly shocked by what she assumed was the audacity of her question, and a little frightened. Seeing him look vulnerable, even for only a moment, struck her like a brick wall. What followed only served to surprise her further. The god seemed ready to drink away his answer, but for some reason before actually gulping the wine down he decided against it.  
The tone of his voice made the servant gulp. The malicious, dangerous sound in his voice had returned, and once again it frightened her. But Brynja did her best to hide this fear, and stared Loki straight in the eye while he asked her his question. She truly had no idea what she was getting into, since she had assumed he referred to himself as a monster because of his past deeds that had led him to that very barred chamber. The idea that he was truly from another realm, something beyond Asgard, had never crossed her mind. It was a frightening suggestion, but she was far too curious to deny him.  
So, after a short pause of silence, Brynja simply nodded her head and whispered, “Yes.”  
-  
Loki grinned, a manic, feral sort of smirk that belied his anxiety over doing such a thing. At first, he didn’t seem to do anything, but the temperature in the room dropped quickly as if something were sucking it away. His Asgardian form bled away, starting at his extremities and edging quickly inward; pale, long-fingered hands suddenly ended in pointed black claws rather than manicured nails, and the backs of them ridged with strange designs.

Loki looked down at them with disgust, as the color began to seep up his neck and over his face. His features were still the same - sharp cheekbones, pointed chin - but his skin was a brilliant azure color and marked with the same raised swirling marks as his hands. Last of all, his green eyes were overtaken by the color of the blood beneath them. When he opened his mouth to speak, his eye-teeth were elongated and sharp like a wolf’s.  
“Now you see,” he said softly, pointedly not looking at her to see her response, although he wanted to. Not because he expected much of her, he was the monster mothers frightened their children into clinging to their skirts with, but because he saw this as a sort of self-punishment. This had been too much, too good to hope for, too good for  him  that someone wished to speak to him for no reason other than that; a tentative friendship. Always craved, but never deserved.  
-  
Brynja’s eyes stayed firmly put on Loki’s as she sat there in the silence. At first she wasn’t exactly sure if anything at all was going to happen. Her body registered the frosty change in temperature before her mind, and she started to shiver in her seat without knowing why. But in only a matter of seconds that all changed as the form she, and all of Asgard, knew as Loki melted into something far more sinister.  
She had been so focused on watching his expression that when suddenly his pale, peach-colored skin was overtaken by a bright azure mask she could not help but gasp. Brynja finally turned her gaze to observe the rest of him, and for the first time she saw the claws his hands now bore. Her eyes carefully glided over his new features, taking in all of their brilliance and ferocity. She was stunned by his appearance, yes, so much so that fear had not even entered into her mind. He was the same man, wasn’t he? His form was vulgar and frightening, but she did not believe it would suddenly cause him to attack her.  
Brynja leaned forward and narrowed her eyes, carefully observing the strange markings on his hands and face. Before she even knew what she was doing she was on her feet and a step closer to the god. “Jotunn?” She whispered quietly, more to herself than to him. She had read about the giants before, though her knowledge on that subject in particular was not vast. She hesitantly crossed over to where he was seated, leaving only a foot or so of space between them. Her teeth were chattering by that point, but she paid no attention to that.  
She stood there for a long while, simply looking at him with curious eyes. Finally she could keep her curiosity pent up no longer, and she questioned him, though by that point she had forgotten all about their game. “How- I mean… When did you learn about this part of yourself?”  
-  
“Half,” he grunted, in reply to her inquiry about his race, but he didn’t look at her until a few moments after she had walked over to him. In deference to her, it became warmer again. The Jotnar could burn with cold at a touch, but that was more of a defensive mechanism, not their natural state. After all, were that not so, how would a half-giant even come into existence.   
“Thor led an expedition into Jotunheimr… one of their warriors grabbed my arm in battle with the intent of burning it off and instead, I turned blue,” he said, finally looking up at her. His eyes, when seen up close, weren’t simply bloodred. Where the iris should be was a darker, ruby red and there was as much expression in them as there had been in his Aesir form. The Jotnar were not monsters in truth; brutal, often cruel in battle, but were not the Aesir much the same? All that Asgard, including Loki himself, knew of the Jotnar was myth and stories brought back from warriors who had been just as intent upon killing the frost giants as the Jotnar were about killing them.  
“No one else saw, and I slew the one who did. Upon my return, I went to the casket of ancient winters in Odin’s treasure vault, and it turned me at my touch as well. None but the royalty of Jotunheimr can wield it… it is said that winter itself gave it to the first king,” he murmured, “The All-father explained. When the Aesir were desecrating the last of Jotunheimr’s cities, he entered the temple and found a babe. He took that babe in his hands, and at his warmth he shifted to an Aesir form, similar to that of his non-jotun parent, no doubt. Laufey’s halfbreed son….”  
He trailed off for a moment, shaking his head. “They call me a liar, but Odin is one himself. Lying to Asgard of my origin, lying to me by omission, and foremost lying to himself to justify his actions,” Loki said, finally, truly meeting her eyes, “He claims I was abandoned to die in the cold, but winter embraces me as it does any true-born kin of Jotunheimr; and who, of any race, would put that which they despise in their most holy sanctum?”  
There was more to the story, for a discussion of this had happened in Laufey’s throne room with his true father and half-brothers in attendance. Jotunheimr kept their anger at Asgard fresh not only for having removed their planet’s life source and doomed it to slowly stop spinning and die, but for taking their crown prince as well.  
-  
When at last Loki looked up at her, Brynja was struck by the deep crimson of his changed eyes. She searched them curiously, enthralled by the complex depth they had. While he told her of how he came to learn of his true heritage she continued to let her gaze wander. The markings on his face were intricate and, in a way, beautiful. And after considering him for a long while, she accepted that though the azure tone of his skin was not something one would easily get used to, it was in itself truly brilliant. Strange, but beautiful.  
The mental image of a baby-Loki being saved by the Allfather made a soft smile appear on Brynja’s lips, but it quickly dissipated when it became obvious that the god did not believe Odin had saved him out of the goodness of his heart. She bit down on her lip as he continued, unsure what she should say to him. His tone alone told her that he held a lot of anger towards the Allfather,  and that he felt betrayed. And as his story unraveled further, that started to make more sense.  
“He stole you,” she finally whispered back. Brynja swallowed hard and looked down at the ground as she ran her thoughts over in her mind. After a short while she shook her head and glanced back up at him. “I cannot imagine the pain you must have felt, knowing that you had been lied to your entire childhood, that he had hidden from you so much of who you are. I don’t condone what he did, nor the reasons behind his actions, but… Did you consider that perhaps he simply did not appreciate the Jotnar enough to know there customs and thought he was saving you? Maybe… Maybe he thought that after destroying Jotunheimr there would be nothing left for a child, and that he could give you a better life?”  
-  
Loki shook his head. “When I first discovered what I was, I gave him the benefit of the doubt even in my anger; that he may have saved my life, but no… He knew precisely who I was and that my father lived. He stole the heir to the throne for his own purposes alone,” Loki replied, “I returned and… spoke to my father. He was not as people thought, he cared deeply for his people as any king should, and they revered him well. We negotiated as diplomats until I angered a guard who grabbed me face, no doubt to teach me a lesson in pain. Of course, I changed instead. These markings are familial, and distinct to the eyes of the Jotnar. Laufey knew immediately who I was and embraced me as his lost son.”  
None in Asgard would believe that tale, save maybe Brynja as she seemed to take his every word at face value. It was, however, the truth of the matter. Loki may call himself a monster, for he felt as one among the Aesir, but he knew and recognized that the Jotnar were only monsters when they needed to be, as the Aesir were as well. Anyone could be a monster, and the colour of their skin did not damn them.  
“I did not slay him, if you wonder that,” he said quickly. Among most of Asgard, who knew not his true nature, the regicide of the Jotun king was the one good thing to come of Loki’s treason. “I burnt him with heat and threw him to the floor when Thor returned so that he could lie as the dead and perhaps escape. I suppose it is possible that he died of his wounds and his living guard carried him on the secret paths of Yggdrasil to their homeworld, but in my heart I believe he walked out.”  
That of course begged many questions, of his purpose, his designs… and if he meant not to kill his true father, then why did he try to destroy Jotunheimr. Even in the context they were given, the official explanation of Loki’s treason and attempted coupe d’etat, his actions made little sense. Now when infused with a bit of truth, they made even less.  
-  
Brynja had never had a personal encounter with the Allfather, for she was too lowly to serve the king, but over the years she had come to revere him as a good and just leader. And why wouldn’t she? He had never done anything within her life to risk the health and happiness of his citizens, and even from afar he seemed kind. There was not a single citizen she could think of that thought ill of Odin. It was easy to understand, then, why Loki’s words had the affect they did. For the first time in her life she was seeing the way Asgard was ruled, and by whom, from a different perspective.  
She soon felt torn between the opinions she had held for years and the knowledge that Loki shared with her. Though he was the god of mischief and known by all to have a silver tongue, Brynja decided to trust this man and all that he said. It was a foolish decision, even she would admit that, but in her heart she wanted to be able to share a bond with him that only trust could bring about. And so she accepted it as true that Odin had selfishly stolen Loki from Jotunheimr as a form of ultimate punishment for his enemies. However, it had not changed her opinion of the Allfather completely, for such change could not be made so quickly.  
“I had heard that Thor defended you by saying you had slayed Laufey to protect Odin. I did believe that, for why would Thor give credit to someone else when he is so used to taking all of the glory? But now that you have shared the truth of his nature… I am glad you did not.” Brynja admitted, feeling  more confused than ever. She exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in an attempt to clear her mind. The knowledge she had taken in during the past couple of hours had created more internal turmoil than she had ever felt, and there seemed to be no easy way to soothe the conflicts.  
“I cannot say that I wish Odin ill will. Do not question my trust in you, for I do believe what you have told me. But, as I’m sure you know, such revelations are very difficult to process. In fairness, though, I never wished the Jotnar any bad tidings. Of course, all I knew of them was from books and legend, but the fact remains I do not bear hatred for enemies I have not made.” The brunette glanced hesitantly back at Loki, hoping that he would understand that her open-minded nature extended even to those he held grudges against. “But it seems that you do not wish the Allfather death, either. Why else would you feel distraught over the fact that, as you said, the Other will come to destroy Asgard?”  
-  
“As much as I may wish to, I find it hard to hate the man who raised me, healed my childhood hurts and calmed my nightmares. He is father as well, although I will no longer use the term due to his betrayal,” Loki replied, “I do not mean Asgard ill will as a whole, nor do I to Jotunheimr. I did not destroy Jotunheimr with the bifrost, nor even try. Do you not think that if the All-father had a weapon that could destroy his enemies forever without shedding Asgardian blood, he would have done so centuries ago? All men lie at some point.”  
He smiled at her, and although meant kindly it showed his Jotun fangs and looked menacing, like an animal snarling. The Jotnar didn’t smile to be friendly, they showed their emotion through other nonverbal means, which Loki had never learned. Perhaps he still would, if his inkling was correct and Laufey still lived.  
Looking down, he caught sight of his hands again and shuddered, realising he was still in his other form. It did not disgust him as the simple idea of it, it was the odd response of one who had been trained since birth that the Jotnar were monsters, and he strove still to coalesce what was ingrained in him, and what he had learned after that was truth.  
“I hold some ill will however, because if my presence eventually draws the other… well, I am in Asgard rather than Jotunheimr,” he said with a wry smile as he stood and went to kneel before the fire. Without his magic to shift easily, it was hard to change between forms, even those that were natural to him. Loki thrust his hand into the fire for a second to prompt the change with heat instead. “I could escape and go there if I wished, no doubt, but I would rather Asgard enter war than Jotunheimr. When the war came to a close there, it was no longer war but genocide from which their numbers have not recovered. They are weak and broken, Jotunheimr had glory once, but now I have given them the strength to rebuild… and that, dear girl, is the greatest of secrets you have learned this night, for none are aware besides myself and thee. I suggest you keep that knowledge close.”  
-  
Brynja found some comfort in the fact that Loki did not hate Odin even now. Despite all of the wrongdoings that had been revealed to her tonight, from what she had seen in her years at the palace the Allfather did care for his sons, and she did not wish to see that tossed aside. She doubted that even in the future, once she had time to process all of this new knowledge, she would feel it just for Loki to completely renounce the Allfather.  
There was a sudden break in the servant’s composure when Loki flashed her a smile. She took a small step back when she saw his fangs glint at her, only to immediately regret it. He had no frightened her so much has shocked her. Even though she had seen the fangs briefly before, his smile made them stand out in a particularly vicious way, and her natural instincts kicked in. Before she managed to mumble an apologize, however, Loki stood from his seat and walked over to the fire.  
Almost like a lost puppy she followed behind him, unaware of how her actions might have come off as clingy or invasive. She was far too curious for her own good, and she wanted to see what Loki was up to. Of course, when she saw him thrust his hand into the flame she gasped and rushed forward, thinking that he had gone mad. But soon it became clear that his actions had been thought out and his hand was in the fire for a purpose, though she had no idea what that was. So, Brynja knelt down beside him, listening to his words intently while still keeping a close eye on his hand.  
“I would never tell a soul what we have discussed tonight,” she quickly reassured. It was true, for Brynja valued their secrecy, though on top of that she could think of no one else she would even be tempted to tell. “But you, the knowledge that you live, has given them strength? The hope to rebuild– I’m sorry, but may I ask what exactly it is you are doing with your hand in the fireplace? Wouldn’t you rather not lose it?” Brynja could not help but interrupt her own train of thoughts to ask that question, she was simply too curious.  
-  
Loki laughed and drew back his hand to hold up to her; unburnt and back to the pale white of Aesir skin. “I have not my magic to push through the forms,” he explained, “I needed the heat to put this one back on. Twas either the fire to do it swiftly, or grab you.” Even as he spoke, his visage faded back to white, and red eyes back to green. He didn’t seem to think at all that she was being invasive; possibly because no one ever  waswith him, so he didn’t stop to think of the fact that a servant was invading his personal space so.  
He smiled at her, and now it looked gentle and perhaps a little patronizing, as he sat down and leaned against the side of the mantlepiece beside the fire. Returning to his Aesir form, he still felt the lingering chill of his true form and the fire felt warm and soothing beside him.  
“I appreciate your candor, and your silence,” he replied, leaning forward to grab his goblet and sip from it, “I suppose we’ve forgotten the game now, but then it was only pretext in any case…. To answer your query, it is not my presence or existence which helps them rebuild. Laufey has other sons who will rule after him, it is what I have done. The Casket of Ancient winters is with Laufey now, and what the bifrost’s power did was not destruction, not quite… Sometimes to build, you must first level the field. It was rough, no doubt some died, but the days in Jotunheimr were growing long, and the years longer… Without their power, their planet slowed and would in time stop turning and fall away from their cold sun. The Bifrost jolted life into it’s frozen heart. Soon enough they will all know it.”  
-  
“Oh.” Brynja said simply. A rather sheepish smile appeared on her face as he sat down and leaned against the mantlepiece. She did feel a bit foolish for having reacted so abruptly, but how else was she supposed to handle the fact that he pushed his hand into open flame? That certainly wasn’t normal. Still, he seemed amused by her outburst, and his smile helped her to feel a little bit better.  
She maneuvered herself back a bit and sat down directly in front of Loki, her long skirt allowing her to sit comfortably without looking like a strumpet.  And as he answered her last question, she once again felt torn. It was not as if she did not want Jotunheimr to heal, and for the Jotnar to live happy lives -  no, she certainly believed they had every right to have that. But it was becoming clear that there was much hate for Odin, and for the Asgardians, in their hearts. She could not blame them, but war was not something she wished for.  
“I am glad that their gift was returned and that it may help to heal the land. But I would be lying if I said I do not fear their strengthening. I do not wish Asgard to perish, and I imagine that’s exactly what they would want after what has been done to them.” Brynja glanced at the fire for a while, watching the flames dance and cast morbid shadows about the room. It was truly terrifying to think that the entire kingdom lay ignorant to the many dangers that they would face. Perhaps they would find a way to peace, but at the moment that possibility seemed  incredibly bleak.  
“But yes, I think we’ve both seen enough of each other now that we don’t need a game to ask questions. I will not lie to you, and I foolishly expect the same in return.”  
-  
“The mortals have a saying,  in vino veritas.  It means in wine, there is truth,” he replied, “For tonight at least, you have my truth and truly there is no reason to lie to you. And in that truth, I would bid you not to worry overmuch on Jotunheimr. Angry they may be, but they will be looking inward for some time and any threats of war are hollow… they have not the numbers, nor the magic, to wage any war for quite some time. With their power returning, they are more apt to rebuild the ruins of their cities and focus on bearing children.”  
He smiled softly at that thought. No matter who you were or what race you belonged to, children were a blessing. When his daughter was born, she had been born blue… if only for a moment, so he felt an odd possessiveness towards jotun children. Perhaps there was also lingering instinct within him that even a lifetime partially conforming to Asgardian ways could not shake.  
“Should Asgard perish, it will not be at the hands of my blood kin,” he said, and it sounded nearly like a promise, “and hopefully not at that of the Other… Do you suppose the guards are wondering by now if I’ve killed you? No doubt the rumors will fly when you emerge unscathed, best to be prepared, dear girl. I fear my silver tongue is no good to you these days, when I cannot see any but those who come to me.” To be honest he cared little for her reputation, in fact if rumors spread it would amuse him, but she was too earnest and caring… A part of him wished her not to be hurt by them, nor swayed. If there was too much trouble caused by her lingering with him, she may not return and there then was lost his only link to the world outside his suite of rooms.  
-  
It was a little disconcerting to hear Loki specifically say that tonight she had his truth. In the hours they had spent together she felt that, on her end, a strange bond had been formed. On one hand there relationship was nothing more than servant and master, but on the other they knew more of each other’s secrets than anyone else. And, for Loki in particular, this was very strange. For his secrets were dangerous, and much larger than any one person could ever be. Still, she knew not what would become of their interaction. The next time she saw him he might think nothing of her at all.  
She forced out a smile when he assured her that his blood kin would not be the end of Asgard. Though she wanted to believe him, that was something that only time would tell. Thankfully, her mind was quickly turned from that morbid notion to a less sinister, but still unfortunate topic. She had not even thought of the guards or what questions her time within might pose. She had been so caught up in her interaction with the god and her curiosity that it never crossed her mind.  
“I hadn’t thought about it,” she answered truthfully. “I suppose I could always tell them that you made a mess of your rooms and that I saw fit to tidy up, though that will stop few rumors.” Brynja sighed heavily. At that moment she wished that she could hide in Loki’s chambers for the rest of time and not have to face whoever might be outside. It would be embarrassing, yes, but she tried to convince herself that she had ignored enough gossip in the past that doing so now wouldn’t be difficult.  
She rolled her eyes before pushing herself off the floor and onto her feet. “I’ll survive, no matter what stories they come up with. Maybe I’ll even hear some interesting ones that can amuse both of us.” Brynjya smirked at him, hiding all of the anxiety she felt. “But it is getting late, and before long they may come looking for me. I think it would be easier for both of us if I leave now.”  
-  
Loki nodded as she stood, but looked -ever so briefly- upset. “Easier but far less pleasant,” he replied gently, “This time, however, was a true pleasure, dear girl…. I hope you will come again.”  
That was perhaps, to him, his biggest admission of the night. He could accept that their time together was enjoyable, that she amused him and consoled him, but to go beyond that to both acknowledge and invite a repeat was a weakness he could hardly allow himself. His words sounded stilted and foreign as he asked her, in his roundabout way, for a repeat.  
“If you do return, bring a better vintage,” he said, his tone light once more -and likely fake, in light of his difficulty in the prior admission. “This is swill. Fetch one of the white wines from Vanaheimr, or ice wine if you can. No doubt the rumors will fly, but I believe my reputation is yet enough that none will seek repercussions against you for fear.”  
-  
Loki had the servant girl grinning from ear to ear with his admission. Once more her cheeks were slightly pink, and she felt rather giddy about the fact that he had more or less invited her for a repeated visit. Of course, she would have to come, it was part of her duty. But being invited made it all much more pleasant for her.  
Brynja smirked at him and rolled her eyes. “I will do my best to get something more up to your standards.” She answered in a playful tone. And even though she did not truly want to leave, she hid this with a smile as she started to collect the tray of untouched food. She left the jug of wine for him in case he sought to further drown himself in the drink, though she hoped he would not fall to that.  
“Goodnight, Loki. I hope we will have another evening as wonderful as this very soon.” And with that, she picked up the tray and gave him one last smile, then exited the room.


End file.
